Midnight Wishes
by Silver Blazen
Summary: The first hour of Christmas is falling upon him, there's echoes of his daughter's laughter and the capturing beauty of his wife guiding him into comfort and joy, but something is missing. He wants his best friend home for Christmas, and he doesn't give up on the hope that Bucky will return to him. He just believes.


**Midnight Wishes**

 **All characters belong to Marvel Comics**

 **I do not own anything**

 _{For JuliaAurelia}_

There had been moments that grounded with resistance; he was still captive in a realm of his past—regret. The calmness of the snowfall blotted out the cold night as the cool shades of Steve's hawkish azure eyes gazed outward; he was standing near a Christmas tree near a crackling fireplace; an imported spruce, decorated with red and blue ribbon and dozens of twinkling lights. Hooked on each branch were glass figures of the Avengers, white and gold stars, and strings of cranberries. It had Peggy's English flare.

Sipping on a mug of homemade eggnog, Steve remained stoic and observant—waiting for his best friend to return. A week before Christmas Eve, Bucky had left for a solo mission in Paris, something had triggered a past memory, and he didn't evade the insatiable desire to chase after it.

Steve couldn't dismiss an unshakeable feeling of restlessness in his gut. A mounting sense of dread of HYDRA recapturing Bucky evoked coldness to rake through him as he trained his intent stare on the snow layer driveway, searching for Bucky's Agusta MV. He became fully delved in hope that reformed Brooklyn son would arrive home unscathed before the midnight hour of Christmas, that he didn't even react to the uncontainable excitement of his precious and brazenly spirited seven-year-old daughter running down the stairway: Sarah Amelia Rogers.

"Boy, I wish you'd come home, Buck," he whispered dismally, casting a despondent gaze on a red star twirling against the softened glow of light. A harrowing feeling knotted in his gut, a soldier's command to engage battle, his skin grew feverish across the chiseled planes of his boyish features, unavailing. Something was undeviatingly wrong...Bucky was never this late. His broad jaw set into a determined clench, and a dangerous flare reflected in the edge of his azure irises as his stance receded from the window. He needed to gear up, strip down his black sweater and jeans, and refasten the helm of Captain America. His best friend was in the crosshairs of HYDRA...He needed to save Bucky.

'Hiya, Daddy...' Steve registered the angelic resonance of his daughter's giggling voice at the instant her weight collided into his leg, almost spilling his eggnog."Ooff..." His eyes flashed downward, watching the tawny-blond haired little girl nuzzling her cheek against his waist.

"Hey, baby girl, you all ready for the big night?" he drawled softly, placing down the mug on a table before caressing her long strands with a tentative sweep of his large hand. He absorbed in her angelic visage that bore a mixture of Irish and British decent, Peggy's spirit was flourishing in her, but she also carried soul piercing defiance into the stillness of her blue eyes—she had Captain America's unyielding fierceness and grace...Each day Steve fell more in love with her, as she grew adventurous, tackling new heights and learning how to defend the little guys at her school.

As Sarah smiled brightly up at him, bouncing on her red-socked feet that matched her pajama ensemble; Steve mirrored her eyes deeply, his stern demeanor melted with a jovial gleam evident to a quirk of a boyish smirk on his lips. He refused to douse out her joy with false hope. He needed to believe that Bucky would return to them before midnight.

"I'm just waitin' for uncle Buck," he raised the depth of his Brooklyn drawl into a dismayed octave, heaviness swelled in his chest. Sarah arched her eyebrow innocently, leveling her gaze at the frosted window. He regarded her modest curiosity in the instant she glanced at the red star ornament hanging on a tree branch. He released an indrawn breath, steering his forlorn gaze to the empty driveway."He's gonna be a little late gettin' here for Christmas-"

"I made uncle Buck, a Christmas present," Sarah replied with a faint giggle, biting on her lip sheepishly and twisted her heel with balletic ease on the polished hardwood, towards a pile of wrapped packages gathered under the tree. Her tousled blond hair unwove her long braid that Peggy had recently weaved up with a scarlet ribbon. "He's just gotta be here, Daddy...He wouldn't miss our Christmas."

Listening to the measure of modest disdain in her voice, Steve felt his heart yield to ache as the gravity of her sullen words, and sighed heavily, clenching his square jaw...How could he discard hope? With an ease of grace, his large hand rested tentatively on her shoulder. Her pure heart was his anchor. He pulled his lips into a taut grimace, fighting against a pulse of uncertainty. "I don't know, baby girl, I think uncle Buck wouldn't miss it, so we gotta believe that he's comin' home to us."

"Mommy says that you were always late," Sarah pointed out in a hushed volume, a trace of Peggy's coy smile curved her delicate lips when Steve unabashedly smirked. She glanced back at the red star, the same one she remembered creating with her uncle Tony in his clutter workshop of fancy toys, and armored suits; the ornament was real die-cast metal and spray painted to match the same hue of the Winter Soldier insignia that she first touched with her tiny infant hands when Bucky cradled her into his arms, humming a Russian lullaby. He would dance with her in the nursery until she fell asleep.

'YA lyublyu tebya moy angel...'

Filled with a brave resolve to face the elements outside, Sarah fisted her small hand and moved toward the closet of jackets and shelves by the front door, as she felt Steve's piercing blue eyes fell steadily on her. "No, uncle Buck, s'not gonna miss Christmas. We're gonna find him in the snow, Daddy, because I think he's lost...Now c'mon."

"Baby girl, wait," Steve engaged her with full momentum, snatching her up effortlessly in his arms before she tugged at her dark blue jacket's sleeve. He needed to dissuade her resolve. With a gentle brush of his soft lips on her cheek, he whispered in a low cadence; and felt her head resting on the broad width of his shoulder. She was sniffling into his material of his sweater. "Sarah, look I know you want to find uncle Buck, but it's not safe outside and your mother wouldn't be very happy if we geared up for a mission...You gotta stay inside."

Shaking her head dismissively, Sarah fell silent and just embraced his loving warmth, each achingly tentative connection of her uncle's metallic touch dissolved the stabbing pain she harbored. It wasn't fair that Bucky left before Christmas because he was chasing memories that he wrote down in notebooks. He was her family, protector and dance partner, and feeling disconnected from him crushed her rebellious spirit when she didn't see empty Starbucks cups on the kitchen table, or the calming scent of his aftershave. She needed to believe in her father's words, and trust in her own little heart that everything would be intact again. Lifting her head up, she met Steve's tender blue eyes, and glided a finger over the arched shape of his smirking lips, unaware that her mother was standing in the doorway of the hall. "Maybe he's gonna be comin' soon, Daddy."

"Captain, are you ready to engage this Christmas mission?" Steve forced his stare away from his daughter's sulken face; to the welcome embrace of his wife's lavish floral scent that evoked a surge of adrenaline mounting in his veins. He spun at the moment he registered her imploring tone and steered the intent depth of his azure eyes to the alluring sight of his ethereal beauty -his best girl standing inches away from them, her graceful stance unyielding.

"I will be once I get our young private to bed, Agent Carter," Steve winked playfully at his love as their daughter wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him tightly. He felt the possessive force of unstable gravity shifting his weight forward, the penetrating depth of his azure eyes transfixed as he delved fully into the elegance of his beautiful wife's divine visage.

The cranberry-scarlet of her dress molded over her curves; accentuating every feminine line of her curvaceous body. He became awe-struck. Watching Peggy's delectable scarlet lips fully curve into a coaxing smirk only intensified his unguarded desire to deliver a heated passionate embrace over her waiting lips.

As her gaze of molten chocolate found his unwavering blue irises, Peggy waited in a measure of steeled composure for his broad arms to shield her against the solid planes of his dense chest; roving a capturing glance momentarily back at her precious daughter, and gleam of unshed tears revealing a sense of defeat; she stepped forward and stroked her hand over Sarah's braided hair."Oh sweetheart," she soothed in a rich English tone, listening to her daughter sniffle with errant tears. Despair was evolving around them, dampening the magic of the night.

"Your Christmas will be grand tomorrow, my darling and I promise you that uncle James will be here when you first get up in the morning." She leaned in close where her husband stood, and brought an ease of comfort. Peggy graced pacifying warmth on Sarah's forehead with a cushioned kiss, whispering."You just have to dare to believe in hope and take charge of the moments that are given to you, even ones that obstruct what you love."

Sarah nuzzled her nose against Peggy's cheek, faintly yawning. "Kay, mommy, I'm gonna do that." Her sadness was availing under the shielding love of her parents, and eyelids fluttering to close. It was time for bed. Nodding at his wife, and in a few silent paces, Steve carried her into the living room, lowering her gently onto a couch, while Peggy encompassed a blanket over her still form. Feeling her parents kiss her goodnight, she drifted to sleep against the glow of Christmas lights.

"Well, how bout' that," Steve faintly quipped, a throaty timbre ghosted passed his lips. He rose from his crouched stance and took Peggy's dainty hand with an interlocking clasp, guiding her to the fireplace. Her ardent chocolate eyes connected with his steeled gazed as he smirked with no undeniable resistance in his stride."You think I wouldn't pass a chance to dance with my best girl at Christmas."

He was ready to dance with her, the blaze of desire fueled him to take the lead as everything felt reachable again. The shadow of despair lifted when he pulled her body against the solid expanse of his chest. His broad arm slipped over her naked back, enticingly, creating friction as she regarded him with a disarmed stare; gentle crescendos of smooth trumpets and saxes from the radio in the kitchen played, fusing into a melodic percussion that matched the elemental harmony around them. It was enchanting. They swayed to a slow pace the idyllic rhythm, following the other's stare as heat wavering from the crackling embers toasted in their adjoined bodies.

Steve felt unsteady on his feet, some part of him still existed as the little guy who never got a dance with a Brooklyn dame because he was clumsy on his toes. He cradled Peggy close, his lips a breath away from her elegant shaped mouth as he sheepishly admitted when his balance faltered. Peggy settled her hand on his shoulder, tracing deft fingers over his blond hair, grounding him. Tension melted away as he released a contented sigh, falling back into blissful memories of them dancing in the backyard when he landed in a mound of snow after jumping out of the AvengeJet with Bucky. This connected moment felt perfect-natural to embrace with her. "Y'know 'm still tryin' to get the hang of this, Peg."

"You're doing fine, Captain," Peggy assured softly, upon sensing his reluctance to follow her pace. She reverently glided her fingers over the hard cords of muscle under his blue sweater, feeling his thunderous heartbeat lap against her flat palm. She looked up to meet his piercing azure eyes, intently staring at his full lips slanting into a timid smile, evident to his clunky footing."You might need more practice, but we have a lifetime to dance as partners."

"Yeah, maybe I should take dance lessons," he drew out an hitching breath; he didn't want to diminish their close moment of freedom, given that Sarah would awake soon if Bucky arrived. They swayed to the music, losing themselves in a suspension of time, bodies moving fluidly across the floor as he reeled all his focus on her. They weren't Captain America and Agent Carter tonight, just two lovers-partners- who shared an unbreakable and timeless devotion. Steve kept her balanced against him, their chest pressed together and heartbeats rapping. Their lips brushed over flesh with a swell of breathless heat as they fall onto the edge of desire.

Peggy glanced fleetingly back at their angelic daughter snuggled under the blanket, smirking coyly. "I think we have time for one more dance, Captain."

"Do you think our baby girl is gonna like the gifts we got her?" he asked modestly, as she nodded in return, giving a wistful glance at the presents. He felt the silken whorls of Peggy's chocolate ringlets brush against the knife-edge of his cheek as he grazed his lips heatedly over her jaw. Their bodies swaying in sync, deeply and unwavering, and their hands linked as the music echoed through the stillness of their vast home.

"I can't believe we're here, Peg, I mean look at us, both out of time and well..." He flicked his glistening azure eyes down, his lips tightened to reveal dimples on his youthful features, as faint chubbiness of his broad chin pressed against his neck as he stammered out a breath. Peggy merely smiled, watching his boyish demeanor come back alive. He was still a kid from Brooklyn."I guess what 'm tryin' to say is that..." he whispered meaningfully; gliding his rough fingers over her knuckles. The fusion of their bodies solidified as he braved to deliver his unburdened words."There's nowhere I'd rather be than dancing with my two best girls."

Peggy closed her eyes, allowing the tune of the song fade out, it was still unfathomable to believe that she was sharing a new and restored life with him; they had been divided for so long, endured immeasurable heartache and emptiness-now that was a shadow of their past, they had found each other and carried on the greatest mission of protecting and loving a little girl who shared both their worlds.

A solitary tear run down her cheek when Steve placed both of hands slowly on her neck, his fingers threading into the thickness of her luscious hair and tilted her face to meet his lips. She remained in control. Her mouth parted slightly, waiting for his kiss to capture.

"Steve," she murmured, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his minty cool aftershave; feeling phantom caresses of his hands intensely trace over her curves. A contented hum vibrated up her throat, she was relishing the pulsing heat of his hardened chest. It was a wall of chiseled strength; unshakeable and shielding to the contrasts of fire and ice that surged in her veins.

In a slow pause of his steps, Steve took a moment, glancing at the window, mainly driving his focus on the driveway. There was nothing out there to could be detectable for movement, just his Harley parked with a tarp over it and their Chevy truck. He released a sigh before steering his intense azures irises back on his beautiful wife pressed snug against him. The midnight hour struck. Christmas had arrived. "Merry Christmas, my best girl..." he declared breathlessly, bracing his arms over her back, and with fluid grace tipped her down while the softness of his embracing mouth delivered tentative and searing pressure on her lips.

"Merry Christmas my darling Captain," Peggy whispered back, adoringly, gripping onto his shoulders. Their kiss deepened. Breaths grew ravenous and heated, their flesh was melting into a swelling pulse, it became a connective force of unbridled passion. Time slowed and senses came alive as Steve rolled his lips achingly over her opened mouth, taking her breath away with delicate and feverish precision arrowing to her core. He held her, recapturing her mouth as their lips enfolded and hearts soared in unison...In those seconds of delving further into their kiss, the sound of a revving motorcycle thundered in the snowy air. They broke apart when Sarah jolted off the couch and bounded to the window.

"He's here," she giggled out a squeak, looking outside and looked outside, anxiously, training her azure eyes towards a dark masculine figure dismounting off a sleek bike. Her heart was speeding rapidly, as she raced out of the living room at top speed, gunning for the wooden door adorned with a decorative wealth. "Uncle Bucky's here!" she shouted with a giggle, expecting to hear the melodious chime of the doorbell. She was waiting for the door to open, to launch herself into the solid embrace of her uncle's flesh and metallic arms. "He's come home to us, Daddy."

Listening to the doorbell rang at the rapid beat of her heart, and Sarah hopped on her feet, waiting for her father to open the door and there he was standing in the vibrancy of their Christmas lights, his bulky frame garbed in a black leather jacket and faded jeans, dark wolfish mane dusted with falling snow. Her eyes lit up at the moment his menacing visage unthawed with a playful arch of his eyebrows, brightening the glacial depth of his luminous blue eyes, alight with crinkling warmth.

Bucky smirked lightly at Steve and Peggy standing in the door, wordlessly apologizing for being late, and then he knelt down on a knee, preparing to embrace his adorable niece who raced down in the chilling air to engage his hug. Sarah collided with ramming speed into his chest, almost knocking him off balance.

"Merry Christmas, little darlin'..." He drawled thickly, his charming Brooklyn accent ghosted with a Russian timbre, brushing his gloved hand over her nuzzled her face into the expanse of his chest; feeling safe and happy to be cradled in his arms again. He was smiling freely at her laughter and his lips graced a warm kiss on her forehead. He trained his glistening eyes back at his best friend, welcoming him home for their Christmas. "Merry Christmas to you, punk," he chuckled throatily, lifting Sarah up into his arms, as they entered the doorway and embraced the first hour of Christmas.

Steve smiled to himself, softly gazing at his wife, daughter and best friend hugging each other in front of the tree. It was a cherishing memory that would live on throughout the Christmas' to come. Without missing another beat, he pulled Bucky into a solid and unyielding hug of brotherly love; they became inseparable again, holding onto each other like they used to when they were kids. Feeling Bucky sag against his thickened chest, he ghosted out a wistful laugh, it was freedom to his heart. "Merry Christmas, jerk."


End file.
